


Glitter

by quartzguts



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Here we go, despite the goofy title its a serious story, it was supposed to be a short character study but then it developed a plot so uh, yeah who knows what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Blades bond closely with their drivers. Some more closely than others.Or: During the Aegis War, Malos and Mythra try to help each other with their problems, to mixed results.





	Glitter

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I'm not really sure what this is, but it's done so. Here it is.  
> Most characters from the main game and TGC are mentioned or appear, but I've only tagged the important characters to keep the tags from getting too long. There's also like a single line of implied Mythra/Rex and implied Malos/Jin.  
> This fic contains major spoilers for XC2 and the TGC DLC. Tread carefully. The character death warning is for canon character deaths.

Sometimes Malos visited Amalthus at night. He liked to watch his driver sleep, liked to watch his chest rise and fall, his eyelids flutter as he was caught up in some dream or another. Or was it a nightmare? Malos couldn’t imagine Amalthus having nice dreams.

When Malos left, his nights were spent alone, sitting in the grassy fields of some titan, watching the stars travel through the sky. He didn’t miss Amalthus. Not really. But his heart clenched uncomfortably at the thought that maybe this would be the night that Amalthus stopped breathing.

-

Mythra had a problem with sleepwalking. It didn’t happen every night, and when it did, she usually ended up in either Milton or Haze’s bed. But sometimes, only sometimes, she found herself sleepwalking right to Addam’s side.

She’d wake up before him on those nights. The pale moonlight would flutter through the windows of whatever inn they were staying at, and she’d use it to watch him sleep. Expression relaxed, a slight smile on his lips, caught in the grasp of a pleasant dream. When he woke up and caught her staring, she pretended to be embarrassed.

Knowing him, he’d force her to talk about it eventually.

-

After weeks of stress filled nights, Malos went back to visit Amalthus. He had an excuse prepared in advance, of course. After making such a dramatic exit, he couldn’t just show up to visit his driver without a reason.

Amalthus jumped at his arrival. Malos’s heart skipped a beat.

He smiled as he lied through his teeth. “I never meant our parting would be forever, you know,” he said as if stating the obvious. Amalthus narrowed his eyes.

Malos babbled on about Torna and data and whatnot, keeping it just interesting enough that Amalthus would feel obliged to respond. When he realized he was running out of things to say, he switched to a more involved topic. “My partner. I hear you gave her to that Tornan prince." All he had to do was keep finding things to say.

“And if I did? You’d erase me, just like that?” Malos’s heartbeat faltered again. He would never hurt his own driver. Not even when Amalthus looked at him with darkness in his eyes and betrayal on his face.

“Not at all. I have a much better idea. I’ve decided my next target is Torna,” he said, a little shakier than he intended.

Amalthus lifted an eyebrow in curious suspicion. “Why would you tell me so plainly?”

Malos readied his power to teleport away. He could feel the conversation turning down a more personal path, and he didn’t like it. He managed out an excuse that sounded natural enough. Anything was better than ‘so you’ll know to stay out of danger.’

Amalthus somehow saw through him. He looked Malos straight in the eyes and said, “you worry about me, don’t you?”

Malos left after that. At least his anxiety would be quelled for the next few weeks.

-

Mythra really hated Lora sometimes. Addam wanted to try out her fighting style, which meant Mythra had to lend him her sword. A deep rooted anxiety gripped her heart whenever she passed the blade into his hands. It didn’t go away until he handed the sword back when the battle was over. As long as the sword was in her hands, she could protect him.

After one such drill, their little group sat around a campfire and began the evening discussion, pointing out weaknesses and strengths and how to apply both to their battle strategies. Haze gave Mythra a sympathetic smile as they settled in, as she usually did after a sparring session. Mythra smiled back. Around them, the conversation picked up quickly. Mythra didn’t bother paying attention to it until Addam addressed her directly. “Huh?”

Brighid held a hand up to her delicate mouth to hide a snicker. Addam, on the other hand, laughed without restraint. “Mythra,” he said, “I was asking you if you had any idea why Malos would up and leave his driver defenseless.”

“Amalthus?” Mythra asked dubiously. “Why would I know?”

Lora gazed at her with those curious, pretty eyes. “Well, you’re an Aegis,” she said, “so if anyone can understand what Malos is thinking, it’s probably you.”

It made sense. Mythra tried to think of a way to avoid saying it, but the rapt attention the rest of the group was giving her made avoiding the question impossible. She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s probably because Malos doesn’t need him.”

“What do you mean?” Addam asked in that unassuming tone Mythra hated.

“Malos is an Aegis,” she said. If it was her job to always say the wrong thing and make things awkward, then she’d own it. “He doesn’t need a driver. If Amalthus dies, he can keep going.”

“Keep... going,” Jin said carefully.

“Keep living. Memories intact and all that,” Mythra said, looking down at her hands.

“Could you do the same without me?” Addam asked.

She nodded. Everyone was quiet after that.

-

Malos tried sleeping a few times. He had heard about the quiet sanctuary it offered humans, and was intrigued. He could deal with his thoughts swirling around during the day, when there was violence and death to distract him, but at night they became heavy and suffocating. Imagined threats leapt out at him from the darkness. Everywhere he looked, he saw the silhouettes of monsters. Even with his ears covered, he heard the rasping breath of demons.

The first time he tried it, it took hours to get his body and mind to relax. When he finally managed it, sleep turned out to be a blessing. He could lie down and shut out the world for a few hours every night. No threats stalked him in his dreams, and no fog clouded his mind. Instead, he strolled around Elysium in wonderful solitude, exploring the empty houses and humming along to the distant sound of bells. His dreams were a paradise.

Until he started seeing Mythra there.

-

Mythra knew she didn’t have to sleep. But Addam had insisted within the first week of their travels that she try it anyway. Even blades, he said, could benefit from a hard earned rest. The look he’d given her was so utterly nurturing, she felt she needed to comply.

Her dreams of Elysium were pleasant enough, she supposed. They distracted her from the heavy weight she felt in her chest during the day. Every time Addam held her blade in his hands, leaving her own empty, or charged into battle without looking to see if she was following, she cringed with discomfort. His heroics would be the death of her someday, especially when she didn’t understand them in the first place.

She was holding a clay vase she’d found in one of the vacant houses, dusting it off, when the door opened and Malos stepped in. They stared at each other. Mythra dropped the vase; it shattered as it hit the ground.

“What the hell.”

Mythra wasn’t sure who’d said it. A moment later she’d woken up in her own bed, alone.

-

They hadn't ever met before their shared dreams started. Mythra couldn't help but think Malos looked a little too lonely to be a monster. And Malos thought Mythra looked a little to unsure to be an Aegis.

Apparently, they both had problems.

-

After the third night that they shared their dream of Elysium, Mythra decided it was finally time to talk to Malos.

For the most part, they’d been ignoring each other. Neither of them seemed interested in talking about, well, anything, least of all their apparent shared love of sleep. The growing heaviness of their mutual distaste was starting to poison the dream, though; Elysium had become dirtied by gray skies and dark, looming shadows. It was unpleasant, to say the least. Since Addam kept insisting she sleep, even going so far as to check up on her at night, she had no way of escaping the situation. So Mythra decided enough was enough.

When she told this much to Malos, he laughed at her.

“What exactly do you expect me to do about the sky?” He said. “I may be an Aegis, but I can’t control the weather.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Mythra snapped as Malos smirked at her. “You’re ruining my dream!”

“Actually, I think it’s _you_ who’s ruining _my_ dream,” Malos said.

“Shut up! Are you even real?”

Slowly the amusement drained from Malos’s face. He looked at her warily. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Am I dreaming you up, or are you really here? Last time I checked, people weren’t supposed to share dreams,” she said.

“We aren’t people, Mythra. Besides, maybe you’re the one who’s an illusion,” Malos said. Mythra crossed her arms. “Okay, let’s make a deal. Next time we meet, in the real world, we’ll talk about this.”

“...talk,” Mythra echoed. “You don’t seem to be the type for talking.”

“Right you are, partner,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be a particularly long conversation. Just enough for both of us to know we're not losing our minds.”

Mythra considered it. Given that she and Addam were going to have to be the ones to face Malos head on when they eventually fought, it wouldn’t be too much effort to say a word or two. “Alright,” she said. “We’ll see.”

The skies seemed lighter already.

-

It was nearly a week before they got the chance to “talk.”

The hearty thrum of battle pulsed around them. Soldiers fought and fell with frightening speed. Mythra could taste the blood in the air and feel it mist over her skin. The clashing of swords left her ears ringing.

Addam wasn’t as distracted as she was. As a prince, he was used to the swirling chaos of battle. He shouted out orders while cutting through Malos's army of gargoyles seemlessly. Suddenly it seemed appropriate that he was the one wielding the sword during battle. _A real battle_ , Mythra thought. Not a practice session or one on one fight with monsters. A real, genuine battle in the midst of a real, genuine war.

Addam yelled to catch her attention. Malos had finally deigned to show up, and was leaning against one of his gargoyles, smiling lazily. Addam charged forward, with Mythra following closely behind.

A gargoyle intercepted their path. Addam shouted at Mythra to keep gunning for Malos. He handed the glowing sword back to her, drawing his own to replace it. Despite the rising panic in her gut, Mythra listened to her driver and leapt up over the mechanical beast, leaving it to him.

Malos grinned as she charged him.

The clash of their blades drowned out all other sensation. As the two of them danced around each other, matching speed and skill in perfect symmetry, Mythra realized that this was what being an Aegis - a master blade - was supposed to be like. This was what it was like to have an equal - a _partner_. In all her time fighting by Addam’s side, taking on whatever challengers approached them, she had never known such a thing. Even Brighid and Jin and other powerful blades she’d fought could never quite match her power. She could see from the joy in Malos’s eyes that he felt the same way.

She almost forgot about their agreement until Malos’s voice cut through the haze. “Still think I’m just a dream?”

Mythra blocked his blow and slid into an attack of her own. “No, you’re real,” she said. “Why are you doing this?”

Another slice, another block. Both of them were breathing heavy, muscles twinging with exhaustion from just this one fight, but neither had managed to land a blow yet. “Because it’s what they,” Malos said, nodding to whatever was behind her, “want, deep down.”

A shout, pained and frantic, rose over the sound of swords clashing. Mythra halted in her attack and jumped back. When she turned around, she saw Addam hunched over, bleeding, glaring defiantly up at the gargoyle that was ready to deliver its final blow.

She ran to his side instantly. Malos laughed as he slid away into the darkness.

-

Mythra was buried in guilt. Although the field medic said that Addam’s bleeding was mostly superficial, that he was going to be fine, she still felt like she had failed him. After all, she had let her driver get injured. That was the one thing a blade was _never_ supposed to do. Jin and Aegaeon tried to placate her with professed understanding, and even Brighid offered a few comforting words. _It’s alright_ , she had said. _This sort of thing happens. Once you get used to each other’s fighting styles, it’ll get easier._

Haze had rested her hand on Mythra’s shoulder, not saying a word. She was the only one who came close to understanding, even if she didn’t know why.

Mythra gave the others a tired smile and a small word of thanks, before going back to kneeling by Addam’s side. He was sleeping fitfully, small beads of sweat pooling on his forehead. A pained expression marred his usually peaceful face. Mythra’s heart ached. What would she have done if he’d died? How would she have faced his wife?

Those dark thoughts held her at Addam’s bedside, even as she struggled to stand. The paranoia screamed at her not to leave his side. The anxiety shrieked that he’d die as soon as she left the room. The guilt seemed to tie her to the floor beneath her.

Eventually she managed to cut all of it off and step away.

She had a dream to visit.

-

Malos was already there when she reached Elysium. He laid on the grass serenely, gazing up at the rumbling storm clouds gathered above. The church bells in the distance echoed like thunder.

“Malos,” Mythra spat.

He sat up slowly. “Ah, I see you’ve finally decided to join me,” he said smugly. “Tell me, is that driver of yours still alive?”

“No thanks to you,” she said coldly.

“Or you,” Malos chided. “It’s a blade’s responsibility to watch over their driver, you know.”

Mythra fought down the urge to tackle him and beat him into the ground right then and there. “As if you’re one to talk.” She had a plan. She just had to stick to it. “You’ve left Amalthus all alone on Indol, haven’t you? Think you’ll be able to make it back in time if something happens?”

Malos’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You wouldn’t -“

“Why not?” Mythra said. “You’ve hurt my driver. Seems to me like I should return the favor.”

Malos shot up and started marching towards her. The clouds above crackled with lightning. “Don’t you dare even think about it!” He shouted. His voice sounded strained, frantic. Wherever he was in Alrest right now, he knew he couldn’t make it back to Indol before she could.

She smirked. She’d been right after all. “Don’t worry, I’m not quite as unrefined as you,” Mythra said, silently thanking Brighid for teaching her how to push people’s buttons. “I wouldn’t go hunting down someone’s driver....”

She trailed off intentionally, leaving the sentence unfinished. Malos glared at her, waiting. When she didn’t continue, he indulged her. “But...?”

“But if you keep hurting my driver, while I refuse to hurt yours, that puts me at a disadvantage,” Mythra said. “So let’s make a deal.”

“A deal,” Malos said flatly.

“I don’t hurt Amalthus. You don’t hurt Addam,” Mythra said. “And everyone is happy.”

Malos considered her for a minute. Mythra’s heart thudded, and for a few painful seconds she thought that she might have misjudged him after all. If he valued winning this war over keeping his driver safe, then -

“Alright,” Malos said. “It’s a deal.”

When they shook hands, his grip was solid but not painful. The anger in his eyes was hazed over by understanding. Mythra realized it was the first time they’d touched each other without violence poisoning the act.

Neither of them stayed in Elysium long after that.

-

Malos went back to see Amalthus as soon as he could. The sight of him strolling through one of Indol’s forests, unharmed, was enough to stop his heart from pounding. A hint of concern cut through the cloud in his head. Amalthus had other blades - why the hell was he out alone? The fact that he actually cared only pissed him off more.

It was like there was a hidden command system in his core with the power to override all his ambitions, all his desires. From the moment he woke up and caught sight of Amalthus’s face, awestruck at his power, he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect, protect, protect. Humans were weak, after all, with a strong penchant for self destruction. Amalthus was no different.

Malos wondered if Mythra felt the same way about her driver. He decided she had to. Otherwise, she would never have struck up their deal.

He kept at a distance, watching from the shadows as Amalthus slowly circled back around towards the city. He didn’t leave until his driver was safely back home.

Home. Malos had no idea where that was supposed to be anymore.

-

“So... why do you think we share our dreams, anyways?”

“It’s probably because our cores share data. When we dream, our consciousnesses connect, and load into the same dreamscape.”

“Huh. That... makes sense, I guess. I wonder who the dream belongs to, though.”

“What?”

“Who dreamed up Elysium first.”

“...I have no idea.”

-

The next time Mythra and Addam faced Malos, it was a brief battle. The gargoyles raged around them, killing common soldiers and civilians indiscriminately. Despite the wild carnage, they kept narrowly missing Addam. Each shot angled toward him ended up striking the ground instead. Mythra was relieved that Malos seemed to be keeping to his word. Addam regarded the gargoyles suspiciously, even slowing his movements to test their accuracy, but she figured his unease was a fair price to pay for his safety.

This time, when they fought one on one, there was no talking.

-

When Malos saw Mythra in Elysium the next night, he approached her easily. Somehow the tension that had spoiled their dreams before was fading away. The skies were almost clear now, only marred by a few stray clouds. Mythra had sought shelter from the unexpected sunshine under a great oak tree.

“Well? I kept my end of the bargain, didn’t I?” He said. He sat next to Mythra on the grass. They rested in the shade for a short while before she answered.

“What, you expect a medal or something?” She said. “But yeah, I noticed. Don’t worry, I’ll keep up my end too.”

Malos stretched his legs and looked out over Elysium. The little rows of houses were devoid of life, as usual. A soft wind blanketed the valley, nearly drowning out the church bells. Malos treasured this brief retreat from his daily anxiety, but by the Architect’s name, that sound was annoying.

“Hey, how much do you care about that driver of yours?” He asked.

Mythra glanced over at him. She shifted her body away from him slightly, as if to hide herself. “Addam is... everything, really. But that’s not what you’re asking, is it.”

“No,” Malos said. “I hate Amalthus. I really do. But I can’t help feeling like I need to... you know. Shield him, or whatever. Be his sword.”

Mythra nodded slowly. “Addam is. Well. He’s an upstanding prince. Always ready to lay his life on the line for his people. He never thinks of himself.” _He never thinks of me, either._ She pulled a blade of grass out of the dirt and rubbed it between her fingers. “It’s infuriating.”

Malos snickered. “Sounds like the opposite of Amalthus. But then again, humans are so self-destructive - he’s basically got a death wish. They all do.”

Mythra knew what Addam would say to that. What Milton and Lora and Jin and everyone else would say. How they’d leap to the opportunity to defend humanity from Malos’s accusations. How they’d insist that humans really do want peace, despite all the war and violence and hate that was around long before Malos destroyed Coeia.

Mythra couldn’t force herself to say any of those things, so she looked up at the sky in silence.

-

After that, their conversations grew more personal and less argumentative. They talked about their memories of Morytha, the Architect, and the World Tree. They talked about cooking, which Malos was surprisingly good at, and crafting charms, which Mythra was learning to do. Sometimes they talked about their drivers. And when the conversation got _too_ personal, they'd playfully insult each other until the sun came out again.

Slowly, Mythra started seeing Malos less as an enemy, and Malos started seeing Mythra as more than a threat. _Siblings_ wasn’t a word either of them wanted to breach, though. So they kept it as maybe-not-quite-friends instead.

-

Addam was barely conscious when Malos got to him. He’d been thrown by the sheer force of one of the gargoyles landing next to him. His head was spinning, his limbs aching. As he watched Malos approach, his imposing figure illuminated by the flames dancing behind him, Addam was seized with a sudden panic. He tried to call out to Mythra, but smoke and ash clouded his lungs.

The earth had been scorched black by Malos’s rampage. The remains of a village were scattered around them, the shoddy foundations of houses that once were piled atop burning food and clothes. It was proof that people had once lived here, before Malos destroyed everything. Addam’s stomach reeled at the thought that he might be lying in someone’s ashes. That he might be breathing them.

Flames licked at his heels. The fire was surrounding them now. Malos didn't seem troubled by the heat and smoke. The blade on his back glowed. Addam steeled himself as he waited for Malos to draw it.

He didn’t.

Instead, he leaned down and hoisted Addam up over his shoulder.

“Tell my partner that I kept my end of the deal,” he murmured.

Addam struggled as Malos carried him away from the flames.

-

“Why did he save you?” Lora asked in shock. Addam was resting in a medical tent that had been pitched up rather hastily once the soldiers had heard that the prince had been caught in the flames. The whole group was crouched at his bedside, eager to learn what had happened now that the field medic was gone. _Two times you’ve had to see me in less than a month_ , she had said as she scrubbed Addam’s forehead down with a wet towel. _You’re going to be the death of me, my prince_.

Mythra couldn’t help but agree. She was standing at the edge of the tent, tempted at the same time to run to Addam’s side and run _away_ from his inevitable questioning. He kept glancing over at her with an unreadable expression. She shifted from one leg to another, contemplating whether or not to bolt.

Now that she was sure Addam wasn’t in any danger during their battles, she could go all out without worrying constantly about his welfare. At the same time, she had seen Addam’s strange looks after each battle, both directed at her and their usually badly injured comrades. Given his hard expression now, she assumed he’d figured out what was going on, at least to some extent. Malos might’ve said something to him, too. Whatever it was, Mythra hoped he would decide to make the inevitable confrontation private.

“He said that he was keeping his end of a deal,” Addam said slowly. Although he was answering Lora’s question, he wasn’t looking at her. “With you, Mythra.”

Her heart sank. Everyone turned to look at her with wide eyes. She shouldn’t have been surprised, really, that Malos told Addam about their agreement so plainly. Still, hot betrayal burned in her stomach, swirling with the shame bubbling up from her comrades’ incredulous looks. She shifted on her feet, feeling ridiculous. _I’m an Aegis_ , she thought. _I shouldn’t have to explain myself to anyone._

If only that were true.

She glanced over at Addam. He was watching her with a firm expression; it was the look he gave her when he was so horribly disappointed that he couldn’t trust his words. “Can we,” she said, tongue dry, “talk about this privately?”

“No we may not,” Addam said sharply. “What was Malos talking about, Mythra?”

“Well- I-“ she stuttered. This was going to look so, so bad. “We have this... deal.”

“A deal,” Addam said bluntly.

“If I stay away from Amalthus,” Mythra said slowly. She could feel his judgement burning on her skin. His concern. His anger. “He’ll stay away from you. It’s nothing, really.”

The others looked at her with shock. Lora seemed confused, Milton angry, Hugo contemplative but wary. Haze’s mouth was open slightly, her expression clear as her fingertips wrapped around Lora’s hand. The setting sun's light shown through the tent’s walls, casting tall shadows on the ground. Addam cleared his throat, coughing a little with the effort.

“Everyone, leave us,” he said in the princely tone he so rarely used. “I’m going to talk to Mythra alone.”

The group was silent as they left, but Mythra could hear their sudden burst of chatter the second they left the tent. Haze's was the only voice she didn't hear. She turned to Addam, chin up, eyes sharp.

Time to justify defending him.

-

Or at least she tried. Addam kept pushing and pulling until she spilled everything. His eyes grew darker and darker as she explained their shared dreams in Elysium, and then their little truce of nonviolence. Eventually, after he forced her to reveal their tentative friendship, he snapped.

Addam actually shouted at her. “How could you possibly make a deal with him?! He’s killed thousands! He’s slaughtered children! Why did you do it?”

“I told you, to keep you safe!” Mythra yelled back. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, to keep you safe!”

“Why?!” He sounded exasperated. There were dark circles under his eyes from weeks of staying up looking over war plans. Days of fighting made his clenched fists shake with exhaustion. His voice was still hoarse from the smoke caught in his throat.

“You’re my driver!” Mythra shouted. “You’re my driver. Nothing matters but you.”

“How could you,” Addam said, “how could you even say that? This isn’t like you!”

“Yes, it is,” Mythra said. “You don’t understand. You’re not a blade.”

Addam’s expression fell. “Okay. Okay. Then... explain it to me. Please.”

Mythra sat at his side. The light was dying down now, the sun just peeking out over the horizon. Only the dim orange rays of sunset illuminated her face as she spoke.

-

Blades bond closely with their drivers. They are bound by strong feelings of loyalty and love. And the bond between a blade and their first driver is the strongest of all. Their first driver determines a blade’s personality, their beliefs, and their moral code. If the bond is particularly strong, a driver can even influence their blade’s appearance.

“Haze,” Addam said.

“Yes.”

-

That bond, which is more powerful than anything else, is painful for any blade to endure. It’s a swirling cloud of anxiety and attachment and paranoia. A chaotic whirlwind of panic every time their driver gets hurt, every time their bond is put at risk. An anxious mess of worry when they’re separated. No human could ever understand it.

“How utterly sad,” Addam said. “And frightening.”

Mythra rested her hands over his. “Don’t worry. It gets worse.”

-

Addam and Amalthus will die one day. But Mythra and Malos will not. They wont lose their memories either, as a normal blade would. Instead, they will continue on, forever missing their drivers, even if they don’t want to. Forever mourning. Forever angry at themselves for failing to protect them from whatever claims their lives in the end, even if it’s old age.

Mythra’s lip trembled at that part, but her expression remained hard and determined. Addam's anger had long since given away to exhaustion.

“Why did you have to make friends with him, though?” He asked hoarsely. “We’re at war, Mythra.”

“He's the only one who gets it. Not even Haze really understands what it’s like,” Mythra said. “He’s an Aegis and... he’s my brother - _friend_ \- too. I don’t have anyone else.”

“You have me.”

“No, I don’t.” Because she didn’t, really. Sure, Addam played the roles of surrogate father and competent driver well enough, but after the war ended he’d go back to his fields and his wife and their baby. Mythra was a weapon, in the end, and a dangerous one at that. Addam had been afraid of her power since the moment he’d awakened her and realized she carried the same potential for destruction as Malos. There was no way he’d trust her around his family when he didn’t even trust her around his soldiers. But that was too painful to say. And unnecessary, if Addam’s regretful look was anything to go off of. Instead, they just held each other until the sun’s flames died completely.

-

Mythra shattered Malos’s core crystal. In the process, she killed Milton and Torna and thousands of other people.

The grief and regret were more overwhelming than anything she’d ever felt before. Not even the relief that surged in her when Addam’s wife was found safe, their baby born and well, could overcome it. To avoid those horrible feelings, she created Pyra and sunk into the deep corners of their shared mind, barely conscious. Addam tried to talk to her through Pyra, tell her it wasn’t her fault, that he didn’t blame her, but she didn’t listen to him. She couldn’t, when he was so obviously lying.

“He’s not lying,” Pyra told her once. “He blames himself -” Mythra knew. But it didn’t really matter.

Later, as she and Pyra sank into the sea, Mythra thought to herself that it was probably better this way. She’d never have to live through Addam’s death the way she’d lived through Milton’s and Hugo’s. And without her, Addam could return to his family and happily forget about her.

He died shortly after the ship settled at the bottom of the sea. Mythra felt it anyway.

-

Much later, as she fought alongside Rex, their moves perfectly synchronized, she couldn’t help but feel as if her bond with him was just as strong as the one she had shared with Addam. The pulsing desire to protect her driver was still there, but it was tempered by Rex’s own desire to protect her and Pyra. That singular dedication somehow made Rex seem more and less like Addam with each passing day.

Underlying that bond of protectiveness and security was a trust unlike anything Mythra had known with Addam. Rex trusted her not to lose control. Even after she used Siren for the first time in front of him, destroying several blades and collapsing part of the battle arena into the sea, Rex felt no fear, no hesitation. Just concern and a pleasant, persistent affection that Mythra thought might be love.

Her separation from Addam felt less like mourning and more like freedom. She felt irrevocably guilty for it.

-

Their new team became more and more like a family every day. They joked around together, shopped together, fought together, and most importantly, stayed together. Usually Pyra took control for those little domestic moments, but she made sure Mythra had her fair share of happy memories with their friends as well. Mythra was surprised that Nia would act just as friendly towards her as Pyra, and Rex didn’t seem to mind who took control. It was almost as if they liked her just as much as they liked Pyra.

Which was impossible because Mythra had made Pyra to be everything she wasn’t - warm and compassionate and sweet.

“But they do like you,” Pyra cooed from the back of her mind as Mythra cuddled up to Nia and Dromarch next to their campfire. “They love you.”

Mythra thought she rather liked having a sister.

Nearby, Poppi was trying to teach Pandoria the art of being “blushy crushy” as Zeke looked on, laughing boisterously. The little robot’s smile made Mythra’s heart ache.

Poppi and Milton were nothing alike. But a little cock of her head or an innocent smile would send Mythra’s mind to a dark place, where Milton’s lifeless eyes stared up at her from Mikhail’s shaking arms. She promised up and down that nothing bad would ever happen to Poppi. To any of them.

-

Malos had Jin by his side now, which was weird. Mythra could tell just by looking at him that he still felt Amalthus’s pull. She had hoped that the old bastard would be dead by now, but he was still kicking and it looked like her partner - brother - whatever was still bound by him. At least Malos seemed to be happy with Jin at his side and Mikhail (grown up and alive, thank the Architect), Akhos and Patroka following after them.

They were still forced to fight. But this time, Mythra knew what she was fighting for. Somehow it made all the difference.

-

Jin cut straight through Haze's misshapen core crystal. Mythra had to hold back her tears at the funeral.

-

The last time she saw Malos, she was waiting for Aion’s self destruct sequence to reach zero and kill her. He should’ve looked pleased with Amalthus gone. Instead he seemed tired. Pnuema wasn’t surprised; Jin was gone, along with the rest of their little family.

“So tell me... how was it? Being alive.” He asked her. She’d know. She’d been “alive” ever since she met Rex months ago. He’d only gotten to live for a few dozen minutes.

Pneuma smiled. Aion exploded before she could answer.

-

When father returned them to their friends, they were separate people with separate bodies. Their core crystals sparkled with green light, reflecting the glittering pieces of the world tree as it fell burning through the sky.

When Rex smiled at them, his eyes gentle and soft, Mythra hoped with all her might that Malos had found happiness too, wherever he was.

(Years later, she caught sight of him in Torigoth. He was holding Jin’s hand and smiling. Patroka and Mikhail were nearby, arguing about something, while Akhos laughed at their antics. Mythra took a deep breath, and stepped forward to meet them.)


End file.
